what did i do for an altar of you
when you cannot hold a place in me that i do not object to
that i will not reject, there is nothing sacred
with my doubt and defamation

visiting and revisitation
where one is generous the other kills a part
that memory escapes when it needs to

you find me only in my struggle
and what you have found used
to be able to recognize the nature of being found
but can no longer as it is subject to its own loss

the real heart is dark
something moves in the water
a breast out of a shirt
this is complete

i love you the most when i have made you the saddest
in truth there were many lies
though you abandoned them for me

i hate you the most when i can't find a flaw
in my invention what seemed organic was a reconstruction
of what dead men mean to the living

what we think we know and what we know
are never the same
what we know never is
what we think is always

the way i have left
the impulsive return never leaving a thought horizon
devoted to reunion but mostly that which is buried
beneath the refuse of shouldn't this be